


Safe and Warm

by plaidshirt_jimkirk



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Space Husbands, Telepathic injury, injured!Spock, old married spirk, protective!jim, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5757931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirt_jimkirk/pseuds/plaidshirt_jimkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During their second five year mission, Spock is injured, sedated, and wakes up in an unexpected location.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Warm

Spock felt the hand that had clenched to his bicep release and slip away. He could nearly hear the words Jim undoubtedly wanted to speak—the ones that would stop him from doing this. However, they both knew that, right now, their roles of captain and first officer needed to take precedence over that of doting husband and dutiful mate.

Though the second five year mission was unlike the first in many ways, the most important factors hadn’t changed at all. Of course, the presence of the bond and the fact that it was now public knowledge that Jim and Spock shared it were the biggest personal changes for both of them. However, despite these major social differences, very little had been altered in the area of command.

After all, they’d loved each other the first time around, but still needed to face difficult decisions and the prospect of the other being injured—or even killed in action. As the Enterprise’s most senior officers, though, Jim and Spock were morally and lawfully obligated to consider what was best for four-hundred and thirty, not only two.

It was surprisingly manageable, mostly because the threatening situations they encountered were almost always nullified by their teamwork. This time, however, Spock would go where Jim couldn’t follow. He cleared his mind of this as he approached the multi-limbed humanoid standing before him with pearly opaque skin that shimmered in the light.

There was always a danger in melding with another—always an element of the unknown to consider, especially when it was done upon first exposure to an unfamiliar life form. In some cases, the potential threat seemed justifiable; it had been that way with the Horta, with Nomad, with V’Ger—and now, again, with the Maklana’ar.

“My mind to your mind.”

The ancient words were spoken with the pads of Spock’s fingertips pressed to foreign psi points. As soon as the meld was established, a soft gasp fell from his lips. Spock’s eyes squeezed together, and yet, he remained, keeping his hand steadily in place.

‘ _Let this sad song of my kind fill your ears if you insist, Vulcan. Hear the torment of its melody. Can your Federation fix this? Can your Federation do justice to a suffering lot?_ ’

A symphony of cries blasted through the meld.

Somewhere in the distance, Spock could hear Jim yelling his name before the dam walls of his control broke and an intense pain crashed into his mind. A mewl may have left his lips at that moment, but Spock couldn’t be rightly sure. The contact broke abruptly then, and his legs immediately gave out. Before his knees crashed to the ground, something caught him—two arms that were very familiar.

Spock was lowered to the ground gently as he writhed and convulsed… shook his head from side-to-side, doing anything to force those deafening echoes of affliction out of his mind.

There was pressure against his neck suddenly and it all went black.

~

A familiar, pleasing scent roused Spock’s consciousness and gently drew him away from the heavy veil of sleep. His lips parted as he took a deep breath, brows pulling inward when he became faintly aware that he was face down with his forehead against something… soft. Comfortable. Home-like. _Jim_. …The meld!

Spock’s eyes snapped open when a wave of panic jolted through him and he pushed back hard with his arms, launching his torso up.

“No, no, no, no, shhh!”

Jim’s hands were on his shoulders, holding him in place and preventing him from rising any further than he already had. Disoriented and with his heart hammering against his side, Spock quickly looked around him—panting now with confusion clearly overtaking his expression as he sat back on Jim’s hips. As he felt his shoulders being gently rubbed, Spock’s eyes focused on Jim, noting that he was sitting back against a fluffy wall of pillows and had obviously just been holding him as he slept.

Spock searched for the answers to the million questions that had begun assaulting his mind as the fog cleared. How had he gotten from the planet to their bed? When did he fall asleep? What of the Maklana’ar?

“Shhh,” Jim repeated, lifting a hand and brushing it through Spock’s hair, just above his ear. “It’s okay. Do you feel any pain?”

“What—” Spock began, surprised by the roughness in voice. He swallowed and tried to regulate his breathing. “What has transpired?”

“The meld injured you,” Jim calmly explained, squinting up to gauge Spock’s condition. He kept his hand cupped over the side of his head and repeated, “Do you feel any pain?”

For several moments, Spock stared at him as his breath caught and then he shook his head, whispering, “No.”

“Okay, good.” Both of Jim’s hands fell to Spock’s and he took them tightly. “We need to call McCoy to make sure, but first, let me explain what happened. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Spock paused to think a moment before he began. “I recall your touch on my arm, and moving toward the Maklana’ar magistrate. I recall initiating the mind meld and then…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to describe the rest.

“Then, something very painful?” Jim filled in for him.

Spock nodded once and swallowed again. “Yes. Very.”

“Then nothing?”

Another nod confirmed that truth. Spock found himself once again exceedingly grateful to have a bondmate who spared him from facing the mortification of vocalizing anything that was highly emotional. Jim somehow always knew when to speak for Spock, and having that support was extremely comforting.

“I’m not surprised,” Jim replied with a small huff, giving a squeeze to Spock’s hands. “Bones knocked you out with a strong sedative right after I caught you. Just after you started the meld, you collapsed.”

“How long was I unconscious for?”

“A little over four hours now.”

Spock’s shoulders fell and he looked down at their entwined fingers, clearly in a pensive state. It was then he noticed that he was no longer in his red uniform, but his black sleeping robe. Jim had also dressed down in a t-shirt and boxers.

Before he could inquire, Jim answered. “Of course, you were in sickbay as soon as we beamed up. Bones ran tests and physically cleared you, but I insisted on bringing you here after that.” His thumbs rubbed small circles into Spock’s knuckles. “I knew you’d be confused when you woke up and wanted to make sure you had privacy while everything straightened itself out.”

Words were lost somewhere in Spock. What had he done to deserve being treated in this manner? Jim was so kind to him, so loving and sensitive… so willing to do anything and everything he could, if only for Spock’s comfort.

His eyes softened slightly. After every meld that had hurt him in some way, Jim had always been there to help him back on his feet and steady him. And now, this time, he’d gone an even extra distance with bringing Spock back to their quarters, undressing him, covering him in warm blankets, and holding him as the sedative wore off to ensure his waking and reorientation were as peaceful as possible.

“Figured,” Jim continued, his lips turning upwards into a tiny smile, “we’ve been through this enough times to know that by now.” His expression became serious. “But you _are_ feeling all right?”

“Yes,” Spock replied softly.

Jim studied him for a moment, as if to reaffirm that answer. Then, he tugged on their hands and pressed a gentle kiss to both of Spock’s before pulling him forward. They embraced, and Spock’s forehead pressed to the side of Jim’s neck again. He closed his eyes when he felt the warm cover drawn up to his shoulders once more.

“We’ll head down to sickbay soon then,” Jim said, the vibration of his voice soothing Spock in his current position. “I just need a few minutes like this.”

Spock felt those arms tighten around him, relief radiating from Jim’s side of their bond. He let himself be held tightly and revered, his own hands clutching tightly to Jim’s shirt.

“Jim?”

“Mmm?”

“The Maklana’ar, the mission…”

“All under control, Spock. The magistrate you melded with was so apologetic over what happened. I think Ambassador Grant was almost grateful for it, to be honest… It’s a bargaining chip.” Jim pushed his head back into the pillows so that he could nudge his chin against the silky black hair. With a pout, he added, “Sorry.”

Spock just shook his head. “There is no need. But should you not be on the bridge now?”

“While we’re en route to our next mission? While you’re injured and I’m worried about you?” Spock felt his back being stroked as Jim quietly continued, “No. A captain has the luxury of choosing his priorities in times of peace, Mister Spock. And in those times, I’ll always choose you.”

Spock’s eyes squeezed shut and he pushed his forehead even further unto Jim’s neck, his digits tightening on the material of his shirt. He loved Jim with every fiber of his being—loved him for adoring him and supporting him and giving him a place to belong in his arms, even when Spock believed he did nothing to deserve any of that.

“You _absolutely_ deserve it,” Jim said quietly.

Spock’s eyes opened. He always knew.

He remained wrapped up in Jim’s warmth until they were commed by an impatient grumbling doctor, wondering “where in the hell” they were, since the sedative should’ve worn off an hour ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! <3333 This piece was originally posted on tumblr and in my short story collection, [Written in the Stars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3558830/chapters/7837652) on my main AO3 account. I'll be reposting each of my short stories individually here so I can tag them accordingly.
> 
> Most smaller stories I write are prompt responses and self-betaed. 
> 
> Hang out with me! [tumblr](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com/) | [KSA](http://ksarchive.com/viewuser.php?uid=12451) | [Wordpress](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.wordpress.com/) | [Pinterest](http://www.pinterest.com/cptjameskirk/)
> 
> Got feedback you'd like to share but don't want to leave it here? Drop a line to plaidshirtjimkirk@gmail.com.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. This piece is purely a work of fiction and I am not profiting from it in any way. I do not consent to my work being reposted or reuploaded, in full or in part, to any other website without my permission.


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